


A Neighborly Day for a Beauty

by AstridMyrna



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M, Fluff, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstridMyrna/pseuds/AstridMyrna
Summary: Jyn is still recovering from the flu from hell when she gets an unexpected visitor at her doorstep.





	A Neighborly Day for a Beauty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephemera (incognitajones)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitajones/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Beautiful Day for a Neighbour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337017) by [ephemera (incognitajones)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitajones/pseuds/ephemera). 



> This is my stab at a sequel for incognitajones'[A Beautiful Day for a Neighbor](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12337017), so read that first! It's short, sweet, and perfect for the holidays.

As Jyn piles up the crumpled up tissues that litter her couch, someone knocks on her door. She watches the door, hoping she’s just hearing things, when the knock repeats itself.

“Coming,” she coughs, then clears her throat. The floor wobbles when she stands up, but after a couple of steps it’s stable again. Rubbing her bare arms to smooth out the goose bumps, she looks through the peephole, and has to grab on to the door knob for support when she sees who it is: The Most Beautiful Man in the World

There’s another knock at the door and he says, “Hello? It’s your neighbor from across the hall.”

Fuck fuck fuck why was he here when she still hadn’t showered and her shirt is crusty with dried drool and her hair is an oily rat’s nest fuck. She looks through the peephole, and he’s still there, but he looks like he’s holding a plastic bag of something. He leans back, sighs, the bag sagging against his side. He turns to leave, and she can't let him go looking so disappointed.

“Sorry,” Jyn says as she opens the door, stopping him in his tracks. “I just got up.”

He smiles as he turns towards her, holding up the white plastic bag a little higher.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you wanted some arroz con leche? My grandmother made far too much, but I thought you would like some since it’s really good to eat when you’re sick.”

“Thank you, that sounds great,” she says, even though she doesn’t know what the hell it is.

Her clammy fingers graze against his smooth, warm ones when he hands her the bag with a large round tupperware inside. She glances inside at the creamy soup so hot that beads of condensation clustered under the lid. She looks up again and he’s close enough for her to see the fuzz of his blue sweater, the slight crinkles around his eyes—and oh god she’s staring.

“Thank you,” she says, her eyes dart down to his tie, “and thank your grandmother for me. It’s sweet of you both to think of me.”

“It’s no trouble. Like I said, if you need anything, I’m right across the hall,” he says and jerks a thumb behind him. “My name is Cassian, by the way.”

“Jyn,” she says.

Their eyes meet, and she could drink in the richness of his eyes as dark as Turkish coffee all day.

“It was nice meeting you, Jyn. Get better soon,” he says, and finally turns to leave.

“Yeah,” she mumbles as she closes the door.

She inhales a shivering breath that stabs the inside of her heavy lungs, her legs trembling within her stiff jeans. Jyn feels more disgusting than hungry, so she places the plastic bag on the kitchen counter before shuffling into the bathroom. The touch of the cold linoleum beneath her feet sends tremors up her body, and she is half-curled over to turn on the shower. She doesn’t try standing (the growing steam that clears her nose makes her dozy), but she sits under the bullet rain of hot water and scrubs the days-old grime and snot. Once she’s out and blow dries her hair and changes into her thickest sweatpants and shirts, the arroz con leche is luke warm.

She cracks the tupperware open to spoon the soup into a microwavable bowl when she discovers that it’s more like a runny rice pudding than a soup. The one nostril that can still breathe catches a whiff of its sweetness when she takes it out of the microwave after heating it up for a minute. She takes the bowl and a spoon with her to her nightstand table, then cocoons herself in every quilt, blanket, and comforter she can get her hands on, leaving a gap wide enough for her to balance the bowl on its fabric lip so she can eat it without burning her fingers.

The warm arroz coats her dry mouth with milk and cinnamon before it soothes down her throat. She doesn’t realize she’s full until the last bit of rice has been slurped up and the bowl wobbles in her hand. Her arm just manages to put the bowl back on the table before she drifts off to sleep again, feeling toasty and full and cared for.

* * *

 Jyn is dressed in her best dark jeans and a cream-white sweater that hadn’t started sagging yet when she stands at the doorstep that belongs to the Most Beautiful Man in the World. Even though her nose still leaks and her legs wobble a little from walking after so much rest, she screws up the courage to return his tupperware. She hadn’t seen Cassian since he gave her the arroz (she hadn’t left her apartment for the following three days), but she knows she can’t keep his container forever. She teases the waves in her hair once more, takes a breath, and knocks.

To her surprise, an old woman nearly half her size and wearing a bright green apron answers the door.

“Oh, um, hello,” Jyn stammers. “I must have the wrong apartment. I was looking for Cassian? I’m his neighbor and he gave me some arroz con leche when I was sick, and I wanted to give his tupperware back.”

The old woman’s smile is wide and toothy as she answers in a buttery soft voice, “Yes, Cassian live here, but I am his grandma.”

“So you were the one who—oh, your arroz con leche was very good.”

“I make some now. Here, I give you some. Come in, come in.”

Cassian’s grandmother, Josefina, pulled some kind of magic spell on Jyn, because she finds herself sitting on Cassian’s dark leather couch with a hot, milky cup of té de canela (though judging by the cinnamon stick floating in the large mug, Jyn guesses correctly that it is cinnamon tea) and not exactly knowing how she got here. As she listens to Josefina chatter to Cassian in Spanish in his bedroom, she takes in his own small apartment that is as neat and perfect as the man himself—the misty blue paint looked new, the oval face of the wood coffee table polished to a mirror shine, the cords behind the T.V. clipped together to keep from tangling. Jyn feels the sudden need to burn everything she owns for her apartment to look even half as clean as his.

The smiling woman joins Jyn on the couch to pick up her own mug of tea.

“I’m so sorry I got your grandson sick,” Jyn tells her.

Josefina waves her off. “He got it from work.”

“I’m pretty sure he got it from me when he helped me up the stairs the other day.”

Josefina puts on a little smile as she cooes, “Yes, he told me about that. He is a sweet boy, eh?”

Jyn nods and grins in spite of herself. “He’s perfect.”

“Am I?” Cassian croaks behind them.

Jyn nearly drops her mug when she jumps in her seat in surprise, but tea sloshes over her hands. She looks back at him, wide eyed and flushed, expecting his perfect self but sees him wearing plaid pajamas and a thick gray robe. He leans his oily head against the wall, his face is shiny with a slick fever sweat, and his dark eyes half-lidded but staring straight at Jyn.

“Aie, Cassian! What are you doing out of bed!” Josefina fusses as she gets from her seat to prod Cassian’s arm with her long, wrinkly fingers.

“I wanted to tell Jyn hello, abuela,” he says and wipes his red, dripping nose that twitches like a rabbit’s.

Jyn, still holding her tea-stained hands up, tells him, “Hello, Cassian. I’m sorry, I should be going. But thank you for the tea and the arroz con leche.”

Cassian’s eyebrows perk up. “You liked it?”

“I loved it. I think it helped me get better faster.”

Josefina chuckles and gently swats Cassian’s shoulder.

“See? She is good girl. Now get back to bed so you can get well.”

Jyn exchanges an amused look with Cassian before he’s herded back into his bedroom by his grandmother. Jyn washs her hands and picks up the cooling tupperware full of arroz con leche—tupperware she’ll have to wash and bring back again once she’s finished with it. Somehow, the task is a little less daunting than before. 

* * *

 

It’s a Saturday morning later and Jyn decides that it is safe enough to give him his tupperware back. She knocks on the door one, two, three—

Cassian opens the door before she can bang on it a third time, looking like he’d never been sick in his burgundy sweater and ash gray slacks. He smiles at her and she flushes like she’s come down with a new fever.

“Hi, Cassian. Feeling better?”

“For the most part,” he says and ruffles the hair on the back of his neck. “You?”

“I still have a cough, but uh,” she holds the plastic bag with the empty bowl in it, “I have your tupperware. Thank you both again for the arroz and tea.”

He takes the bag from her, his knuckles brushing against hers once more.

“Thank you for entertaining my grandmother,” he murmurs. “I know she’s a very hard woman to say no to.”

“She’s lovely, though. And a very good cook.”

“I’ll tell her that.”

He leans against the door frame, tapping his index finger against the wall. Jyn rolls her tongue under her gums, and she should leave, because why else should she be standing at his doorstep. But she’s still here, and he’s still standing with the door wide open, and she wants to see the inside of his apartment again.

“Can I get you breakfast?” she says.

He grins as he closes the door behind him, “Absolutely.”

 "It's really windy outside, though. Is that sweater going to be enough?"

His cheeks redden a bit and he opens his door again. "Good idea. Meet you at the stairs?"

They meet a few minutes later, Jyn in her plush green jacket and Cassian in his trench coat, and take their time as they walk down every step of the three flights of stairs.

 


End file.
